Flames of Hope

by Cassandra L Shaw

  “Poverty.” He hit the disc again, and it came back to life. Xylvar drove off.

  She hated his life had been so hard. That the clever, deep-thinking young man she’d once known had suffered not just physically, but mentally and financially. “That sucks.”

  “Don’t pity me.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Sure. Now why do we have to leave the duplex and run?”

  “In the café, I hit the evil dude jackpot. There was the guy I contacted you about, you did get pictures?”

  “I did.”

  “Did you see Father Morgan?”

  “I did. So he’s the Drainer.”

  “Could be, but the first guy met with our old friend Scarface—not Father Morgan. They have a new kidnapping planned. Then…fuck, I’m having trouble putting this into words. Rich, my boss Rich, is in cahoots with Father Morgan. They had a little tête-à-tête in a different booth.

  “Your FBPI boss?”

  “Yes. He’s our leak, or it could go further. We need to get out of our unit and disappear. We’re sliding into a poison pit of deception. Greed, power—so many people have their hands in more than one hot apple pie, I’m surprised there isn’t a world shortage.”

  “Sometimes hot apple burns.”

  “If they’re involved in these kidnappings, I hope they all burn. We have to find somewhere to hide.”

  “From everyone, including Katoom clan?”

  She gave it some thought. “Yes. There’s too many what-ifs, maybes, and possibilities. Rich has the best decoders, trackers, hackers…you name it. He could well know I’m taking a sabbatical from my sabbatical, and playing house with you as Storm, Pure hunter.”

  He tapped his finger on the wheel, the silver dancing up his hands and ropy forearms. “I know just the place.”

  She sure hoped he did. Because the only people Xylvar and Jasmine could trust were in his van right now.

  31

  Chapter Thirty-One

  They headed for Xylvar’s unit, where Jasmine got out of his van and hurried to set the clan’s van into drive mode for herself. They drove to their clan-supplied duplex, Xylvar parking a few doors up while Jasmine parked in their normal spot.

  Inside they emptied the unit, filling the van with everything they might need. Once they’d finished, Jasmine drove to the mall, parking behind a row of dumpsters. Xylvar followed, and they exchanged the equipment back into Xylvar’s van before driving off and abandoning the Katoom-supplied vehicle.

  He drove down a road, then pulled over. “Give me all your links so I can get rid of all clan-supplied tracking devices and coding.”

  Jasmine looked around the street before digging around and finding all her electronics. “Just leaving in the ones you installed?” she asked, squinting up the road at a pale blue car.

  “Until this is over, you and I have to rely totally on each other.”

  She smiled, knowing he’d avoided answering about the ones he installed. “I know. That blue car look familiar to you?”

  Xylvar looked up. “Surely not. We’ll check them out in a minute. Let’s get this done first.” He removed all the devices, then dug into the links, putting in place new encryptions and updating all the security walls.

  Half an hour later he sent a text and waited. Minutes passed.

  “What are we waiting on?” The blue car up the road drove off.

  “Know someone who is away in the Forces. I’ve asked to crash at his house.”

  “He’s a friend?” She hadn’t heard him mention any friends. Certainly not anyone he kept in contact with in the Forces.

  “Not a friend. Someone who owes me. I’m cashing in one of my favor chips.”

  “If he doesn’t answer? He might be away on a mission or something.”

  “Then we break in.” Ten more minutes passed without a return message. Xylvar engaged the van and drove off. “He could be anywhere.”

  “We break in?”

  “Won’t take but a few minutes. I’ll send him a message, promise not to trash the place too much.”

  “Big of you.”

  “I think so. But first, I need to do a drive-by and collect that new fly for the remote.” He turned down a side street and headed for the extra-seedy side of town.

  #

  They arrived at a small but modern building, not far from the estate they’d been pretending to look at near the Loose Moose. Painted a dark gray with crisp white trim, the house blended in with its neighbors in the way estates do when the developer has five or six exterior designs and only a couple of alternative interior design choices.

  Three maple trees blocked part of the view, while at the back a row of poplars created a high, green wall of privacy, giving the house a sense of separation, containment, of being reclusive.

  Suitable for someone who liked being alone, a loner…a soldier on retreat. Xylvar would feel completely at home.

  Jasmine pointed to the rear of the property. “There’s an external garage.”

  Xylvar eyed it and nodded. “Hope it’s empty.”

  As did she. Hiding the van felt important. The blue car might have disappeared, but her neck kept tingling. With Rich in cahoots with a priest wanting to be part of the genocide of two species, Jasmine and her beast were feeling more than paranoid.

  Xylvar pulled up in front of the garage. “I put the lock decoder in the red bag. Grab it and unlock the door. If the garage is empty, you’ll have to drive the van in. I won’t be able to get the chair out. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “For being unable to move around easily.”

  “What the fuck? You’re being ridiculous.”

  She shook her head and got out of the van, running around to the back to dig out the decoder. At the garage door, she hurried to make a key card, slipping it through the door’s slot. The door rolled up to reveal a space holding nothing more than a small, open cupboard with a dozen or so hand tools on display. Xylvar and his chair hit the ground. She handed him the decoder, pulled the slide-back driver seat forward, and drove in. Once parked, she started to unload the van. A box and a bag balanced in her arms, she found Xylvar at the back door.

  “What’s up?”

  “Decoder or not, this bastard lock is tricky. The decoder has to find the code for each bar and it’s a seven-bar lock, and the door’s solid steel.”

  “Suspicious type, huh?”

  He winked. “Yeah, mad bastard must have thought someday, someone might try and break in.” The door started to click as the all the bars spearing the side walls of the house released. Jasmine put the box and bag on the ground. Xylvar pushed the door open, and, blaster in hand, he spun to the alarm disc, running the decoder over it. The coder beeped, and he turned to look at it. “Ilovebigtits.”

  “Nice to know.” She had a terrible urge to stretch and shows hers off to their fullest. But though they were decent in size, she’d hardly call them big.

  “Ross’s alarm code. No spaces.” He disarmed the alarm. “At least we won’t forget what it is.” He wheeled down the hall, paused, and let out a low whistle. “I think I know why the paranoia. Check out this gear.”

  Jasmine tried not to gape while she followed Xylvar and took in the modest-sized house’s contents. The furniture was antique. The real sort. Solid timber, and made of tree species no one had been allowed to log for over two hundred years.

  She ran her hand over an old sideboard, luxuriating in the vibration of the timber. At a compu center on the wall, she clicked through the specs for heating and cooling, for auto blinds, and auto floor cleaning, turning on and off appliances. “Primo electronics, too. You ever been here before?”

  “No. Passed the door once so I knew where it was. In case.”

  “This old furniture must be inherited.”

  “Guess. Doesn’t go with the suburb or house, but he could be into fancy. I can’t use the front door, three stairs, so if we have to get out, you go, and I’ll take my chances out the back. Now let
’s get the rest of the gear inside and decode the front door so we have a card key for it. Then we can work out what we should do, who we should hunt.”

  #

  Jasmine looked at the time. “Nearly midnight.” She put a mug of hot chocolate in front of Xylvar and sat back in the plush, velvet-upholstered couch. The cushioning molded around her, yet it also supported. She wiggled into the glory of it. She could sleep on this and never get a crick. “I could learn to suffer through this sort of luxury.”

  “Hard to take, isn’t it? Did you see the bed and bathroom? Ross converted a spare bedroom to extend the bathroom. I could roll my freaking chair into the shower and spin around.”

  “Better than any hideouts I’ve had to use in the FBPI. Fleas and cold cemeplas floors are the status quo. Like this luxury idea far more.” And she’d still get to share a bed with Xylvar.

  She sipped her hot, milky chocolate brew while she soaked in his closeness, her heart growing fuller every second with love for him. Foolhardy and masochistic, she couldn’t help her feelings, just as she couldn’t stop him from leaving again. Sometimes you loved people who simply did not love you back, no matter the comradery you shared.

  “What do we tell Kaid about the café?” They’d asked Xylvar and her to go, so they’d expect an update.

  “I’ve already sent the image of the first guy who left the café, and one of his car and registration.” He grabbed his link, started typing. “I’ve sent what you heard and saw except about your boss. Now it’s up to them. Our main aim is to stay off the loop. Discover what’s going on with our unbeloved Father, and your turncoat boss.”

  Forehead tight, she nodded. “If I hadn’t seen and heard him, I would never have suspected him of being a traitor. You think Scarface has his finger in two lots of gold and silver pie? Father Morgan’s and another?”

  “I do. Makes him an interesting man.”

  “Not as interesting as Rich. After thinking on it, I think we should warn Kaid.”

  “We can’t unless I physically see him and tell him on the side. The leak might not just be Rich, and if it’s more than a FBPI compromise, then someone has the clan hacked, or at least has key peoples’ links hacked. We don’t want Rich to know we know.”

  Jasmine stretched, rolled her shoulders. “In saying that, you could have just told the wrong people about Scarface’s contact.”

  “No, they were expecting our information to come through. And we haven’t revealed we’re no longer playing Todd and Storm. Anyone who cuts into those contacts will find only the names of Storm and Todd.”

  “That’s something, at least. I don’t fancy having the FBPI on our tails.”

  Xylvar started to rub her shoulder. “I want to know why Vanessa and James disappeared, and why you found a dead man in their duplex.”

  “Or why another FBPI agent arrived at the scene. Do you think he’s part of Rich’s plan?”

  “I’m going to assume it’s all linked in some way. I can’t find the trail yet, but it’s there.”

  Jasmine sighed as Xylvar finished rubbing her shoulders. “Fingers of gold.” She finished her cocoa and put their two cups in the very modern kitchen. “Tomorrow’s going to be an interesting day. I’m hitting the shower. Want to join me?” She lifted her brows. He looked over his shoulder out of the window and into the night.

  She half laughed. “You did say your chair could fit, even spin around.”

  “My chair isn’t rustproof and no one sees me…naked.”

  She turned and stared at him, opened her mouth, and then shut it. Truth, since she’d never seen his legs bare. “I’ll face this argument after we’re safe.”

  “Look forward to it.”

  Why did she think he’d want to join her? He’d told her over and over there would be no couple, no us at the end of the assignment. He’d simply leave to have his procedure and either roll or walk away.

  At the door to the bathroom she stopped. “Oh, my. This bathroom’s bigger than my last apartment.”

  Twelve water pumps blasted her with hot water. She walked out in a thick fluffy blue towel. “That shower is worth ten orgasms.” Xylvar lay on the huge bed, his arm over his eyes, loose black fleece covering his bottom half and a black T the top.

  “Only ten?”

  “Special Ops must pay a load more than FBPI.”

  “I can assure you the pay isn’t anything up to this standard. Ross has money from somewhere else.”

  “You don’t know where?”

  “Don’t care. Lots of Special Ops officers do paid work on the side.”

  #

  At dawn Xylvar’s link started to buzz. He grabbed it off the bedside table and stared at the screen. Jasmine, her hair a wild, black, sexy halo, sat up and blinked. “Damn. I was sound asleep.”

  He blinked. He’d watched her toss and turn most of the night. He’d hate to share a bed with her during a bad night sleep. He passed her the link, pushed himself into a sitting position.

  “We need to hit the road. Our ever-so-irreverent Father looks to be heading for a gold drop-off.”

  “Great. Nothing like a bit of action.” She stretched her neck and rolled her shoulders before heading for the bathroom.

  They dressed and knifed up, ready to fight. Jasmine scrambled through the bags and boxes they’d hauled inside the night before, digging out a couple of blasters each, and the remote for the beetle they’d been given instead of a fly.

  Outside, she checked the street for any cars seeming familiar before she backed Xylvar’s van out of the garage. Xylvar took the wheel, since it made it easier for her to exit as soon as they stopped, or even a little before if need be.

  Only half a minute behind the blue dot of Father Morgan’s personal vehicle, they hit the end of the street with the storage facility they assumed held the gold. Xylvar hit his hand control for acceleration. The vehicle came into view.

  “We have him.”

  Father’s Morgan’s car never slowed, just drove past the gates.

  “Maybe he recognized this van.”

  “Can’t have.” Xylvar eased back. Father Morgan drove down to the suburban end of the road before pulling into a large, modern home. He parked and entered the house.

  Xylvar pulled the van to the curb a block up under the shade of a maple. “This isn’t his home.” He grabbed his link and keyed in the address. “House is listed as owned by Caleb Jones, someone who also owns four other houses.”

  Jasmine eyed the well-kept house and yard. “Not a name I recognize from the church or the food hamper charity. But I suppose he’d have other friends and contacts. Wonder if anyone else is inside?”

  “Easy enough to find out, if we could get ahold of heat cameras.” He started tapping his finger on the steering wheel.

  “They’re illegal,” she stated, wishing they had one all the same.

  “Worldwide humanity laws or not, I’ve used them in ops, so my bet is it isn’t just our government that has them. Everything’s available through darker channels if the credits are right.”

  “Equipment can always be bought via underground channels. I’ve seen enough of it during assignments. The credits to buy the items through those channels are harder to come by. Easy to see the truth of it when you bust up Mule-processing plants and find gear even the agencies don’t have.”

  “Some equipment comes from areas so dark, the price becomes diamond-encrusted. Only available to the mega-rich or mega-corrupt.”

  An hour passed, and the Father was still inside. Jasmine’s stomach growled. She rubbed it. Considering the amount of food she stuffed into herself last night, she shouldn’t be hungry. It gurgled again. “Maybe we should get some breakfast.”

  “True. Could be a long day, and I can follow his car once he leaves anyway.” He started the van, pulling onto the road just as the garage door on the house lifted. A white van with a blue stripe pulled out.

  Jasmine pointed. “Our Father is at the wheel.”

  “We’ll have to eat l
ater.”

  Father Morgan and his van travelled south. Xylvar dropped back, hiding behind a large truck. As they left Bozeman, the traffic thinned, and Xylvar dropped farther back. “Any satellite coverage today?”

  Jasmine pulled out her link. “No.” Satellites, new to the world’s skies, were few, and the ones covering the remoter North Americas were on an every-four-days pass-over at best.

  More cars took an off-ramp to an industrial area. “Shit, just going to be us and the Father on the fucking road soon.”

  A tick started in Xylvar’s jaw. A finger started to tap the steering wheel.

  “We’re in a white van. Dozens of them on the road every minute.”

  “Except right now.” Xylvar grunted, hitting the hard left of the service road. “Pull up a map.”

  She put the map up on her link’s screen. “Dozens of roads and exits lead off this.”

  Father’s car, a spot in the distance, disappeared down another exit.

  “Three road choices.”

  Xylvar sped up…and then his van conked out. He rolled it to the side of the road. “Fuck.” He pounded the steering wheel. Hit the ignition again. The van juddered, shuddered, and made a pinging sound.

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  He hit the ignition, and the van, after a second’s deafening silence, turned over and thrummed to life. “Great getaway vehicle we have here.”

  Jasmine put her hand on his leg, then moved it to his arm. “We’ll be all right. With our skills, we can kill anyone who comes for us. Including half the FBPI.” Hopefully Rich would be one of them. Traitors and turncoats were only good for information or for filling a coffin.

  They chose the left-hand road of the three, since it was wider and looked more used, the map showing it to have quite a few turnoffs until it eventually ran out in the midst of some lower woodland.

  Across a causeway of a wide shallow stream, he continued, Father Morgan a distinct white dot in front of them, turned left after a huge sign. A minute later they followed.

  “Some sort of ranchers’ food festival going on.”

  “Maybe the good Father is preaching there, or collecting some produce for the hampers?”